


Learning To Let Go

by ItsAiryBro



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn, background Shunsui x jyushiro, mechanic! Gin, mechanic! Grimmjow, mechanic! Harribel, mechanic! Nnoitra, mechanic! Starrk, more characters and tags later, pet store clerk! Ichigo, smother yourself in baby animals, so many baby animals, very self-indulgent, warning may go up later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAiryBro/pseuds/ItsAiryBro
Summary: A burnt child dreads the fire. Ichigo has been burned too many times, and he'll be damned if he allows it to happen again, even if it means being lonely. He has his animals, he will be fine, or so he thinks until Grimmjow barges into the pet clinic he works at with his kitten and his terrible flirting.





	1. Sora

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much to [Vanillanemo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillanemo) for helping me polish this stuff, it's old and full of shit but I'm dusting it off in the hope that I'll actually finish this story.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

Grimmjow was woken from his slumber by the sound of pitiful mewling.

For a minute, it didn’t register that it was coming from the little basin next to his bed, but when it did, he scrambled over to check on the kitten he had rescued from the rain yesterday.

She was a tiny little thing, malnourished and frail, but Grimmjow could tell she was a fighter. She had white fur that was missing in some places, and baby blue eyes that were a little too big for her face. But she was absolutely adorable.

Grimmjow had a soft spot for baby animals. They called out to the protective instinct in him.

Making sure that she was alright, he picked her up and carried her to the kitchen with him. The little kitten squirmed in his careful hold, and he raised her up to his face to nuzzle her nose. She licked his cheek, and he laughed.

Setting her down on his dining table, he warmed some milk and poured it in a small bowl for her to drink. He waited a moment to see if she was able to drink it directly from the bowl and let her lap contently at the liquid when he found that she could. Quickly finishing his morning routine, he pulled on some fresh clothes and entered the kitchen with a small basket lined with clean rags and a small, warm blanket.

He had no idea how he even had the basket, but he wasn’t complaining at the moment. Who would have thought his pack-rat tendencies would actually pay off?

The kitten was dozing where he’d sat her, so Grimmjow guessed she was still tired. He gently picked her up and placed her in the basket, placing an old, folded t-shirt on her so she wouldn’t feel cold. He poured out the milk before putting on his black leather jacket and grabbing his essentials and the cat’s basket, and stepped out of the warmth of his modest one-story house.

Making sure the door was locked properly, he began his brisk walk to the pet store.

Starrk had told him about the place, which was a block further from the auto shop he co-owned and worked at.

Auto 61 was Grimmjow’s second home, considering he spent almost all his waking hours there. It was his heart and soul, and had taken plenty of hard work and saved up money to make it the popular workshop it was today. He had started it with Starrk, who was somewhat akin to his best friend, and his roommate since his college days. They had worked night and day to build the little shop into a decent sized garage, one of the best in Karakura now.

They had quite a lot of female clients, and it wasn’t a rarity to see them ogling the workers under the pretense of watching them work on the car. Not that anyone could blame them, really. They _were_ a bunch of hot motherfuckers, with the exception of Nnoitra, who was just a motherfucker. A really tall, really annoying one.

Before long, he was standing in front of the combined pet store and clinic Starrk had told him about. Apparently, the vet was a kind and experienced man, and they had a large variety of pet food and other paraphernalia.

The storefront was pretty average, what you’d expect from any pet shop. The display window had a huge fish tank filled with goldfish at the bottom, a large hamster cage with a couple of fluffy hamsters rolling around on the shelf above, and two medium-sized bird cages, one with a couple of blue and yellow lovebirds and the other with a brilliantly coloured macaw stacked above the hamster cage. The cages were all clean and the feeders were full. The macaw squawked at him, interrupting his scrutiny.

His kitten poked her nose out of the basket, looking up at him with her large blue eyes. “Mew,” she said.

Grimmjow chuckled at that, hefting the basket so he could tuck it against his side before he pushed the door and it opened with a jangling of bells.

Hm, how old-fashioned.

The whole shop had a nice, welcoming feel to it. The floor was a dark wood, and the walls were painted a light green. The cashier’s counter was almost right at the entrance, though no one was sitting there now. Along the opposite wall was a bench about seven feet long. Next to the bench was a plain door with a bronze plaque bearing the doctor’s name, and a poster of 3 frolicking golden retriever puppies neatly taped below it. On the wall above the bench was a large, colourful poster that listed all the vaccines that were to be administered, and another poster about some basic pet-care regimens. When to feed them, when to bathe them, grooming them and the like. Grimmjow surmised this was the waiting room for the in-house clinic Starrk deemed worthy enough to treat his two dogs. There was a cacophony of animal noises coming from further inside, so he decided to go inside instead of simply standing around in the entrance.

Above the eager barking and whining of the dogs and the slightly quieter mewing of the kittens, Grimmjow heard a soft male voice laughing.

Now he was no romantic, and neither did he believe in love at first sight, but Grimmjow was pretty fucking sure something weird was happening right then.

The sweet, deep tenor belonged to a young man who was sitting on his haunches next to an open puppy’s cage, laughing in amusement as a puppy barked and licked at him. Bright orange hair, short and sticking up defiantly, swayed along with the movement of his head. Grimmjow could only see a profile of a youthful, kind face with a sharp nose and defined cheekbones as the man showered the puppy with belly scratches.

Grimmjow could almost hear a choir of heavenly voices. The word ‘angel’ was at the tip of his tongue.

The almost surreal moment shattered when his kitten let out a loud meow, the man now regarding him with a wary, somewhat irritated expression.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez-- fearless, brash, outspoken Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez-- was lost for words.

Brown, such gorgeous, beautiful brown eyes the man had...

“May I help you?” he asked, effectively snapping him out of his momentary meltdown.

“Uhm. Yeah.” Grimmjow held out his cat-basket dumbly. “I need stuff for her.”

Wow, Grimmjow. Just. _Wow._

Grimmjow internally head-desked. Because a facepalm couldn’t capture and express how absolutely _dumb_ he felt right now.

Face softening at the sight of the fuzzy kitten, the man-- the clerk, Grimmjow realized-- nodded. “Why don’t you wait in the front, I’ll be right there.”

“Sure.”

Grimmjow walked back to the waiting area and set the basket down on the countertop that was bare except for a computer and a small printer on one corner. Behind the desk, the shelves were filled with bottles and boxes, all of them bearing pictures of the animals they were intended for. Dogs, kittens, birds, fish, even horses.

His kitten had managed to tumble out of the basket as he’d looked at all the things on the shelves, and he quickly scooped her away before she managed to reach the keyboard.

“Hey now, don’t go wandering off like that!” he chided her, tapping lightly on her pink nose.

The macaw screeched suddenly, and both man and cat almost jumped out of their skin at the unexpected noise.

“Bostov! Don’t screech at the customers!” The clerk’s voice was heard before he was seen, wiping his hands on a small towel which he tucked into his back pocket with a half smile on his face. “Don’t mind the bird, he does that all the time. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, though. How old is your kitten?”

Grimmjow was able to get a good look now, and he was mentally arguing with himself how one person could be so perfect. Just a little shorter than his own six-two, the man had a lithe build and excellent posture. His neck was slender and his collar bones were well defined, peeking out from his t-shirt’s large, round neck. He was wearing a dark green apron that reached a few inches above his knees, “Katen’s Pet Emporium” embroidered onto the left breast with white thread.

The clerk cleared his throat, looking at him pointedly from behind the counter.

Grimmjow mentally head-desked again.

“Uh- I- I don’t really know, actually. I was walking home yesterday night when I found her in the alley next to my house. She was wet and dirty and was a little bloodied so I wiped her down her with a damp washcloth and put some antiseptic lotion on her. Then I fed her some milk and she fell asleep.”

Humming, the clerk stroked the little furball behind her ears. “She looks to be around two weeks old, and from what I can say, she looks pretty healthy though she’s a bit on the thin side. Just feed her regularly and she’ll be fine. You should get her vaccinated at eight weeks, and dewormed when she’s about six weeks old. You should bring her to the vet anyway, and get her checked up. A two-week old kitten is a lot of work.”

Grimmjow nodded attentively, noting the way the man carefully looked over the kitten, how the concern on his face melted to relief when he was sure everything was fine. “When can I come see the vet, then?”

“Dr. Ukitake will be here from six to nine every day except Thursdays. You can just walk in, but you’ll be saved some hassle if you call ahead to make an appointment.”

“In that case, can I make an appointment for today? I work at the auto shop on 42nd street, so it shouldn’t be a problem to come here again.” Not that it would ever be a problem to come see the handsome clerk, of course.

The man nodded. He opened a drawer and pulled out a clipboard and a pen, and a small notebook that had a picture of a fluffy Persian kitten on its cover.

He uncapped the pen and opened the small notebook before he looked at Grimmjow again to ask for his name.

“Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.” Grimmjow smirked at the disbelieving face he was no stranger to. “That’s G-R-I-M-M-J-O-W J-A-E-G-E-R-J-A-Q-U-E-Z”

Making a ‘whew’ sound, the clerk acted like he was wiping sweat off his forehead. Grimmjow outright laughed at that.

“So what’s her name?”

“Damn, I knew I was forgetting something,” Grimmjow mumbled, and the clerk shrugged.

“So do I leave this space blank till later?”

Grimmjow smiled sheepishly, absently raking a hand through his light blue hair. “I suck at this kind of thing, and I don’t think I’ll come up with a nice name even if I think about it all day, so... Why don’t you name her yourself?”

The clerk looked surprised at that, going wide-eyed and a little pink in the face. “But- But it’s your cat, I couldn’t-”

“No, you have to,” Grimmjow grinned at him, “I’m the reason why the garage is called ‘Auto 61’. Starrk lost a bet, so I got to name it myself. Do you know how pissed he was? So if you want to spare this innocent creature from having some dumbass name like, I dunno, Fluffy or some shit, I think you should name her yourself.”

The clerk let out a small ‘heh’. “Fluffy is a good name. But fine then. I’ll choose a name, see if you like it.” He picked up the kitten and held her out at arm’s length, looking at her with one eye closed. Then he brought her close to his face so they were seeing eye to eye, warm chocolate brown to bright icy blue. After a while of contemplation, he put her down again and looked at Grimmjow sagely.

"You should call her... Sora."

Grimmjow grinned. "Like the sky, eh? It's a great name. Thanks."

The clerk gently placed her back in the basket before he went back to the book, filling everything else in with Grimmjow’s help.

“When do you want the appointment, then?” he asked, copying some things from the book onto the form on the clipboard.

“Is six o’clock alright?”

“Sure. Bring this book whenever you bring her to the vet. Have you had a cat before?” At Grimmjow’s nod, he continued, “Well, in any case, you should read up on the pet care tips they have in the book, to make sure you haven’t missed anything. I’ll get all the other things you need for now. And also, don’t give her milk, you need to give her kitten formula so she won’t get an upset stomach. Feed her once every four to six hours, and keep her warm and clean. You’ll have to rub her down to help her pee, and you’ll have to burp her too.”

As the clerk looked through the shelves inside the shop, pulling out a large, shallow trough, a bag of cat litter, a box of kitten milk replacer and some toys, he talked the whole while about cat behaviors and house training them, and Grimmjow’s mind wandered.

Grimmjow was sure he was on to something here; the man really _did_ look like an angel when he smiled. The corners of his eyes would crinkle a little and his eyes would shine with affection as he looked at the animals he took care of. His lips curled _just so_ , and damn if Grimmjow didn’t feel like he’d been kicked in the chest by a horse.

He just stared at the back of the man’s head, trying to comprehend what he’d seen in his warm brown eyes. Something in them intrigued Grimmjow. He never claimed to be good at interacting with people, but he excelled at reading them, gauging what kind of person they were. And Grimmjow was pretty impressed already with what little he’d seen, which was quite a feat in itself since Grimmjow wasn’t easily impressed by anything.

This man had a sense of determination in him, a hardened will, but he also had a jaded sense of resignation. Grimmjow found it curious, the presence of two completely opposite traits in one person. He wanted to know the man better. It wasn’t just to sate his curiosity, no. He felt an inexplicable draw to this orange-haired man, to his wary personality and his beautiful brown eyes.

The clerk handed him the bag filled with cat things, and Grimmjow paid. As he tucked his change back into his wallet, Grimmjow hesitated before he decided he needed to know. “What’s your name?”

Grimmjow could almost _see_ walls going up. The clerk’s eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion, his arms crossing over his chest. “Why do you want to know?”

Grimmjow filed away the defensive behaviour to ponder later. “Well, by the looks of it I’m going to be a regular customer from now on, so I thought it would be nice to know your name, you know. But by the way you’re fussing about it, I suppose I don’t need it after all.” He smirked, knowing he was taking an unnecessary risk by mouthing off like an ass, but hoping the clerk would take the bait.

The shop assistant went a little red in the face even as he scowled. “It’s Kurosaki. And it’s not fussing if you want to know why some random dude wants to know your name.”

“But I’m not a random dude now, am I?” Grimmjow grinned, elated that he’d gotten the result he’d wanted. _Kurosaki_. Was that a first name, or a last? Probably the last.

The clerk- Kurosaki- rolled his eyes heavenward before giving him a flat look. “Good day to you, sir.”

He laughed. “It’s Grimmjow, Kurosaki. Call me Grimmjow.”

Pointedly ignoring him, Kurosaki waved goodbye at Sora, saying “Bye, kitty!” before he turned and walked back into the store.

Grimmjow smiled to himself.

_**-till next time** _


	2. Adorable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimmjow is extremely dorky. Nnoitra's humor is suspect.

Grimmjow hefted the bag full of kitten stuff over his shoulder as he carefully carried the basket with Sora wrapped up snugly inside it. Kurosaki had told him to keep the kitten warm and to always wash his hands before he handled her so she wouldn’t be too exposed to germs. Her immune system was weak right now and she required a lot of care and careful handling.

And Grimmjow wouldn’t dream of going against the angel’s wishes. The angel with the enigmatic aura and a halo of fiery hair and enchanting brown eyes.

He stepped into the garage with a huge grin. “What’s up, ladies?”

“The fuck are you carrying in your hand?” Was his kind greeting in return.

“Stuff you know batshit about, Nnoitra! Come see my little kitten!”

“Is that what you call your junk? Hurr hurr,” Nnoitra snorted, and Hallibel rolled her eyes at the stupidity she had to put up with on a daily basis. Starrk yawned and ambled his way to where Grimmjow was standing.

Grimmjow was proudly showing off his newly acquired pet, preening under the attention his colleagues were giving Sora. What could he say, he was a complete show off whenever the opportunity presented itself. Not like he didn’t have good reason for it anyway.

Nnoitra bent at the hips so he could squint down at Sora with his one eye, scrutinizing her as if she was a piece of meat and he was a butcher. “Ey, who’s this tiny fur ball?”

Grimmjow shoved him away with a hand on his face, annoyed with how he was looking at his pet. “I took her in from the rain yesterday night. She’s staying with me now.”

“Aww, little Grimm has a soft spot for baby animals, hmm?” Gin sauntered over from the restroom, wiping his hands on a rag as he walked. He reached out and stroked a single finger under Sora’s chin, grinning at Grimmjow teasingly.

Grimmjow slapped his hand away as well, giving him a deadpan look. “Yes, I do. What’s it to ya? And stop calling me that, asshole.”

Gin chuckled, raising his hands defensively. “Relax, Little Grimm, I was only kidding!”

Grimmjow grumbled but Hallibel effectively cut him off with a look. “What’s her name?”

“Sora! Ain’t she adorable?” He grinned, previous annoyance forgotten.

Gin stared. Nnoitra made a gagging noise. Hallibel blinked. Starrk smirked. “That name’s tasteful, so I’m sure you didn’t come up with it. Who named her?” he asked.

Grimmjow’s grin melted from proud to positively dreamy. “Kurosaki.”

The looks on the others’ faces ranged from alarmed to disturbed. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez did not grin dreamily. Period. His doing so was proving that some universal balance was shifting and a nuclear winter was on its way. Hell had probably frozen over by now.

“Would you please stop smiling like that? It’s creeping us out.” Starrk effectively cut through his daydream, and Grimmjow went back to scowling again.

The others sighed in relief. Much better.

“Who’s this Kurosaki dude anyway?” Nnoitra tried not to twitch at the sight of Grimmjow fussing with the cat’s tshirt-blanket. He wisely turned away to muck around with the inside of a car so that he wouldn’t have to subject himself to that disquieting sight.

“The clerk at the pet store?” Starrk questioned, looking a little confused. He had known the kid for a while now, and he knew for a fact that he didn’t give away his name to anyone who asked. Heck, even he knew it only because he’d heard Dr. Ukitake call him a couple of times.

“Yup!” Grimmjow smirked, obligingly holding the basket up as Hallibel tickled Sora under the chin. The kitten mewled.

“How’d you manage that?”

“I asked for it, he told me.” He left out the teasing part because he didn’t feel like elaborating. It was something special between the clerk and himself, and he wanted to keep it that way. “Why?”

“Well, I’ve known him for three years now and he isn’t the type to give out personal details like to random people like that.”

“But I’m not some random stranger! I’m going to be a regular customer you know,” he huffed out. “And by the way, thanks Starrk, I’ll gladly let you drive me home in your car.”

“But I didn’t- oh right, I see what you did there.” The perpetually sleepy man sighed, rubbing his neck. “In that case, you’re welcome, I guess.”

“What do you mean, ‘drive me home’? Aren’t you working?” Nnoitra yelled, a little outraged.

“I’m on leave for the whole week. Kittens need a lot of care and attention, you know. I can’t leave her alone at home and I sure as hell can’t bring her here. She might get hurt.”

Nnoitra gaped at him like he was an alien. “But you can’t blow off a whole week of work like that! That’s- that’s- you bastard!”

“Grimmjow has plenty of sick days so he can take a holiday if he wants, Nnoitra.” Hallibel spoke up, effectively ending his tirade.

Sometimes Grimmjow was really thankful they had hired the no-nonsense, hard working woman despite the initial ruckus caused by male customers who refused to let their vehicles be looked at by a ‘woman doing a man’s work’. Sod all of them, Hallibel was one of the best mechanics Grimmjow had ever seen and he’d be damned if he let a bunch of sexist idiots influence him. Besides, Hallibel’s sisters made her packed lunches and they were to die for.

Nnoitra had joined after Hallibel, and he’d been a sexist idiot as well, until Hallibel threatened to castrate him with a spanner and came damn near finishing the job too. After that, he had backed down, but over time even he had come to admire the blonde’s impeccable work.

Soon Grimmjow found himself slipping into the passenger seat of Starrk’s black SUV, kitten-basket in his lap and bag full of supplies in the back seat. Starrk checked the rearview mirror before he backed out of the parking lot they shared with the green grocers next door.

“So. What did the vet say?” Starrk looked out of the corner of his eyes, noting the gentle smile adorning his friend’s face as he stroked the kitten’s tummy.

“The vet wasn’t in. I got an appointment for today at six in the evening.”

“Kurosaki’s just as good as the vet, the only thing he doesn’t have is an official degree.”

“Oh, that’s cool. He did seem like he knew what he was doing.” Grimmjow pondered saying something else, but he stayed silent.

“Spit it out.” Starrk smirked, knowing his friend enough to guess when he was holding back.

Grimmjow chuckled. “No hiding from you, is there? Anyway... What do you know about him?”

The brunette hummed softly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove. “He’s a sweet kid. He’s polite to the customers and adores all the animals, really goes above and beyond to care for them. And all the animals love him too, it’s like he’s some sort of pied piper or something, the way they flock to him.”

Grimmjow hummed.

“So... Kurosaki, huh?” Starrk prodded, genuinely curious. He knew Grimmjow since their college days, and in the eight years they had spent together, he had never seen him show anything other than a passing interest in other people. He went out occasionally, had a few beers, had a few hook ups, had a few dinner or movie dates. But Grimmjow had never _ever_ smiled like that when he thought of any of them. “What happened to ‘not being tied down to one single person’? I thought you weren’t interested in relationships?”

Grimmjow sighed, looking pensive. They’d arrived at his house, but neither of them made a move to get out. “I know I wasn’t interested in relationships or anything even remotely close to that, but... one look at that guy and... And there’s fireworks in my head and- and stampeding rhinos in my heart and butterflies in my stomach. It’s... I don’t even know what I’m saying.”

Starrk stared incredulously at his friend. That had to be the cutest thing Grimmjow had ever said. “Is this where you turn to me and say, ‘I think... he is... _the one_ ’?”

Grimmjow snorted a laugh, and whacked Starrk on the back of his head. “You wish, asshole. Now help me bring these things inside.”

 ****-

The rest of the day had been spent taking care of Sora. Grimmjow found that he adored the little fur ball, petting her and cuddling her and talking to her. Two times he’d found himself dissolving into a pile of cooing mush at her antics, and he’d freaked himself out so much that he had to watch some action movies so he could see people blow shit up and shoot shit down just to make himself feel manly again.

He’d set up a scratching post, the litter box, and the cat bed (which was the basin she’d slept in the previous night, only decked out with a warm fleece blanket and a small circular pillow). He read through everything in the book, and also did some research on the internet to make sure he wasn’t missing anything.

Before long, it was five thirty and Grimmjow was getting ready to go see the vet. And Kurosaki.

**-**

Kurosaki was at the counter when Grimmjow stepped into the shop.

“Hey there,” he greeted, a small grin on his face. “How are you today?”

“Same as I was in the morning, thanks?” Kurosaki looked at him suspiciously, and Grimmjow found it adorable.

Grimmjow found everything the man did adorable.

Kurosaki’s face was expressive, and Grimmjow could tell by the slightly squinted eyes and the frown that he was trying to figure out if Grimmjow had any ulterior motives behind his actions.

“Relax, it’s not a crime to be polite, yeah?”

Before Kurosaki could say anything, a man with long white hair done up in a ponytail stepped out of the clinic area, and smiled at Grimmjow before turning to the clerk and handing him a sticky note. “Ichigo-kun, could you please order these for me?” he said, his tone soothing and low.

“Yes, Dr. Ukitake, I’ll do it by tonight,” _Ichigo_ replied, and the doctor smiled at him before going back in.

“So, Ichigo Kurosaki, huh? Ichigo is a cute name. Can I call you Ichi?” Grimmjow smiled what he thought was his winsome smile.

‘Ichi’ bristled. “Don’t shorten my name without permission.” The ‘asshole’ went unsaid.

“Okay, may I have your permission, then?”

“No. Now sit down and be quiet till the vet calls you.” Ichigo huffed and turned to rearrange something on the shelf behind him.

“Wow, Ichigo, do you talk to all your customers like that, or am I special?”

“Only to the ones that get on my nerves.” came the snappy retort, accompanied by a too-sweet smile. “Now, _sir_ , it’s time for your appointment.”

“You wound me. I told you to call me Grimmjow didn’t I? I’ll even give you permission to shorten my name, how’s that sound?”

“Just _great,_ now if you’d just step through that door,” Ichigo gritted out, clearly at the end of his line, “you can meet the doctor and leave.”

Grimmjow laughed, but moved toward the door anyway.

“You’ll need a pet carrier. I’ll get one ready by the time you’re done.” Ichigo’s voice reached him as he closed the door.

**-**

Dr. Ukitake was a nice man, around his late thirties, with kind green eyes and a gentle demeanor. His very presence was soothing and reassuring. Now Grimmjow understood why Starrk trusted this man with his dogs.

He told him the same things Ichigo had, about warmth, vaccinations, grooming and feeding. He even patiently cleared Grimmjow’s doubts with a smile on his face (when can I give her normal food? Is it okay to start off with dry cat food? I thought cats liked milk, should I give her any milk at all? Is it enough if I change the lining once a day? Is it okay for her to sleep with me on my pillow? Ichigo told me something about a weak immune system, should I be worried? Does she need any medicine apart from the vaccines?), explaining his answers well.

He was pretty cool.

The minute Grimmjow stepped out of the door, he was met with the sight of five women in the age group 16-60, standing at the counter and flirting with a frazzled, irritated Ichigo.

Ichigo nodded at him, a vein ticking at his temple. “I got your pet carrier.”

The minute the women’s eyes fell on him, they abandoned Ichigo to rush over to him.

“Oh! I’ve never seen you before!”

“Your kitten is so cute!”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“What’s its name?”

“What’s _your_ name?”

“Aw, it looks just like my little Prince Xavier Lecroix the third!”

“When is your next appointment?”

“Isn’t Dr. Ukitake the best?”

“Are you single?”

“Er...” Grimmjow fumbled, not really knowing how to get out of the spotlight.

And Ichigo was laughing at him from behind the counter!

Just when Grimmjow was about to lose it, a masculine voice drawled out from further inside the shop, putting an end to the chattering. “Now, now ladies, can’t you see you’re scaring the poor lad?”

Grimmjow scowled at the man who had just revealed himself, half thankful for getting the women away and half pissed because he had called him scared. “I wasn’t scared.”

The man chuckled as he walked over and held his hand out. “Shunsui Kyouraku. I’m the owner of this little place. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Likewise.” He half-smiled, noting the man’s laid back attitude and lazy smile. He was wearing a pink yukata and his long, wavy brown hair was pulled into ponytail at the nape of his neck. A hamster sat on his shoulder.

“Ne, Kyouraku-san, who’s the little cutie on your shoulder?” asked a girl who looked to be in her late teens. And that seemed to be the cue for the rest of them to descend on the man. He didn’t look like he needed any help, so Grimmjow edged his way toward the counter.

Ichigo handed him a box with a grey and blue pet carrier. He printed out the bill, and Grimmjow paid.

“Did you set up all the things like I told you to?”

The mechanic grinned, “Uh-huh. I prepared the cat bed and placed it close to the heater, and I placed the litter box in a secluded place. I fed her the formula and I rubbed her down and burped her just like you told me. She’s a smart little thing, barely any trouble at all. All my colleagues think she’s amazing. I took a lot of pictures”

“I see you’re turning into a veritable cat lady, huh?” Ichigo smiled at him, and Grimmjow felt like he’d been kicked in the chest again. By a rampaging elephant.

“I- what- Shut up! I’m not a cat lady!” he groused.

“Not yet. But you will be. Pretty soon too, by the looks of it.”

Ichigo snickered into his hand, and Grimmjow couldn’t even be mildly pissed at him for it. What was happening to him?

“Smart ass.” He smirked, reaching out and ruffling his mop of orange hair before escaping, laughing as Ichigo’s indignant sputtering followed him out the door.

**_-till next time_ **


	3. Plato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of Ichigo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Some angst, implied animal abuse

On weekdays, Ichigo’s days began at six in the morning. He woke up, brushed his teeth, grabbed a drink of cold milk, and went out on his morning jog. He’d drop by his father’s house and pick up their dog, Shiro, and take him out to the park for a morning run. After their romp in the park, where men and women would pause and start conversations about how gorgeous the large white dog was, they’d return to his dad’s house, and Ichigo would set out water and food for the dog as his dad lumbered about, trying to make his eyes stay open for more than a few seconds at a time. 

His dad wasn’t a morning person.

After a thorough tickle war and plenty of licks, Shiro would let him step out of the house, and Ichigo would walk back to his place. After that fifteen minute walk, he’d shower, shave, dress, and make some breakfast if he felt like cooking. If he didn’t, he’d just pour out a bowlful of cornflakes and eat it with more cold milk. 

After breakfast was done, he’d walk to Katen’s, which would take him another ten minutes, to reach his joy and reason for living.

The pet shop had been with him through some of the most painful times in his life, and Ichigo would be forever grateful to both Shunsui and Jyuushiro for giving him that safe haven. He honestly didn’t know where he’d be without the little creatures that brightened his day with their boundless affection.

The minute he opened the door he’d be greeted with a cacophony of animal noises. It was a good thing fish didn’t make noise, or that’d be in the mix too. 

He’d greet all of them, the puppies, the kittens, the rabbits, the hamsters, the birds, the fish. They’d all respond enthusiastically (except the fish, of course). Bostov would screech at him, and he would spend the next few minutes making parrot noises at the macaw as he cleaned his cage and replaced his bird feed and water. Then he’d go around to the other bird cages and coo to them, sometimes whistling a little tune to add to the birdsong. 

After that came the rabbits and hamsters, and he’d meticulously clean their cages and throw out the waste, giving them a nice rub down and a few scratches on their necks for good measure. 

Then he’d go around inspecting the fish tanks. They were all quite large and fitted with the best in filtering systems, so they were cleaned only once a month on an off day. He would sprinkle fish food into each of the tanks; different kinds of pellets for different types of fish.

The kittens were next, two Persians, two Japanese bobtails and a seal point siamese, all of them male. They clamoured for his attention, making little mewls and trying to climb over their pens. They were all eight weeks old, vaccinated and weaned, and they were quite the adorable sight. They’d climb over each other in a bid to reach Ichigo and get him to pick them up, letting out surprised little cat sounds when a brother decided he didn’t like being used as a step ladder and pulled away, causing the little man on top to go tumbling down. Ichigo spoke to each of them individually, picking them up and letting them cuddle into his chest and neck, and then setting them outside the pen to eat and run about a little as he took care of their litter boxes. 

The Siamese was the naughtiest of the lot, always conspiring to escape his pen and pad over to the fish tanks at the opposite side of the room as fast as his baby legs would allow, waddling in a way that showed he wasn’t used to walking yet. Ichigo always had a few choice words for him. He’d lift him up so they were nose to nose and stared deep into the cat’s icy blue eyes, and after a good while of that, he’d tap the kitten’s nose and talk in a low, firm voice about being a good boy and not wandering off. The kitten would mewl as if he understood, and Ichigo would put him down with his brothers. 

The kitten would be furiously trying to waddle back in the next five minutes. 

Ichigo took that as his cue to tuck the little ones away in their pen again, before going to the people who had been patiently waiting for him all this time. 

Five puppies looked up at him, little pink tongues hanging out of their mouths in lopsided grins, ears cocked in attention. One Akita, two labradors and two goldens.

They whined in unison, and Ichigo practically dived to the ground in his haste to scoop them into his arms. 

He let all the pups out of the two pens they were being kept in, and let them clamber all over him, yipping and whining their joy at being petted. Ichigo laughed outright when they caught him at his ticklish spots, like the juncture of his neck. He would literally roll around with them on the hardwood floor (which was pretty clean, he did sweep it every night when they closed), letting the little brats use his body like a living, breathing jungle gym. 

All animals were wonderful, but Ichigo adored dogs the most. They took quite a bit of care, but they returned your affection tenfold without ever expecting anything in return, except maybe a belly rub and a treat every now and then. He liked their simplicity and their solemn eyes that saw deep into your soul, saw all your secrets and fears and insecurities, but never judged. Really, they were all the best friends he needed.

“I see you guys are growing into healthy little rascals, huh?” He chuckled, snagging the Akita and giving him a particularly intense cuddle. Then all of them decided to gang up on him and cover him in puppy slobber. “Okay, okay, I get it, you guys either really really like me, or I taste really delicious. So which is it?”

He was answered by a chorus of happy barking, and a rather disgruntled screech from Bostov. 

“What do you want, damn bird?” He snapped, and got another loud squawk in response. He gathered an armful of squirming puppies and gave them a final group snuggle before slipping collars and leashes onto them so he could take them out for a walk before officially opening the store.

The puppies generally made a mess of themselves as they were wont to do, running in five different directions as best as their still-learning-to-walk legs would let them. Ichigo managed to successfully herd them from and to the shop without too much of a fuss, bribing them with treats and plenty of belly rubs.

Once that was accomplished, he mopped the whole place once before settling down for a break. It was ten in the morning, and they had officially opened for the day. 

-

The afternoons were usually quite boring, filled with simply grooming the animals and feeding them, and taking inventory. There would be a customer or two, usually there to buy pet food or medicine. 

He'd have his lunch break at two, a sandwich from the supermarket across the street.

Then evening would roll around and things would get busy again, with people bringing their pets to visit Jyuushiro. Shunsui would usually be there in the evenings, and would gladly divert female attention away from him when it became too much. More sales happened in the evenings too, so he'd be occupied at the register. Shunsui would sometimes take over for him, and he'd be free to go inside and just sit with the pups for a while.

Then they'd close at around nine, and Ichigo would sweep the whole place and dust the shelves. Jyuushiro and Shunsui would dispose of the medical waste from the clinic, and Ichigo would sweep and mop over there as well, as his bosses set out dinner and changed the water in the cages.

After all that, Shunsui would lock up and they would split up to head home, his bosses in Jyuushiro's car, and Ichigo on foot. 

He'd eat dinner in front of the TV as he rotated channels between the news, music, reality TV, and Animal Planet.

Then shower, mouthwash, bed.

Rinse and repeat.

**-**

Weekends were his days off, and he loved them because it gave him some free time.

The mornings were the same, he'd have to take Shiro out for a walk and remind his father that he had a job to take care of, but after he went back home, he could laze about in front of the TV for a while, watching classic cartoons as he devoured sugary cereal right out of the box.

At around ten thirty, he'd get dressed and head out to the other joy of his life: Kisuke's animal home, the only privately run no-kill animal shelter in Karakura.

When the shelter had opened, he'd been around twelve years old, and still mourning the death of his mother a year after the incident. One of his father's friends had suggested getting him into extracurricular activities to take his mind off things, but Ichigo wasn't really interested in anything. One day, though, his class had gone on a trip to Kisuke's and that had been it for Ichigo.

He loved animals, but his dad never let him have one, claiming they were too much work for a small kid. When he saw the shelter, he was struck by how dedicated these people were to protecting and caring for homeless and abandoned animals. He'd spent the whole day asking questions and absorbing everything he could about the place, and when he got home, he’d pestered his dad till he agreed to let him volunteer there at the weekends. 

And Ichigo had been a volunteer there for eleven years now. 

There were five full-time workers there, who practically lived on the premises, and a host of volunteers who took care of various tasks. They ran a tight ship, and Ichigo was practically a figure of authority among all the volunteer staff. He was notorious for his meticulous and careful method of doing things, all the newer recruits looked up to him for guidance. Ichigo had to admit, it felt nice to be respected. 

He cycled to the shelter since it was quite far from his house, located almost out of the city. He relished the mild sun on his skin and the wind in his hair as he briskly pedaled toward his destination. 

When he pulled into the shelter's parking lot, he was greeted by Tessai, who was one of the managers at the shelter. He smiled at the elder man before walking into the reception area of the two-story building.

“Hey, Ichigo!” Mashiro, the receptionist, waved at him excitedly. “How are you?”

“Morning, Mashiro! I’m fine, how are things around here?”

“Things are great!” She beamed, but she quickly shifted into a pout, one more serious and upset than her usual playful pouting. “We have a dog Chad picked up on one of his runs. He seems to have been abused.”

Ichigo felt his own spirits sink a little. He couldn’t understand how anyone could bring themselves to be cruel to such gentle creatures. “Where is he? Who’s been taking care of him?”

“He’s in the back room next to the clinic, in quarantine. Kisuke’s with him.”

Ichigo nodded and smiled a little in farewell, and he walked through the reception to reach the clinic.

Kisuke’s had a twenty-four hour clinic, but it was only for the animals they housed, unless it was an emergency. Kisuke was one of the best vets around, almost as good as Jyuushiro was, if not better, so sometimes he had referrals as well. 

He stepped into the quarantine room, which was a spacious, brightly lit and well ventilated room filled with empty metal cages. Kisuke was standing at the back, peering intently at one that was not. 

Ichigo moved to stand next to the director, whose weird striped bucket hat was sitting off-kilter on his mop of shaggy blond hair. Seemed like even Kisuke was worried about the new comer. 

“Hey, Hat Man.”

Kisuke favoured him with a sideways glance and a small smile. “Hey you too, my favourite Feebo ninja.”

Ichigo blushed and scowled. ‘Feebo ninja’ was actually ‘Feeding Bottle Ninja’, a term their other director, Yoruichi, had come up with for the volunteers who were experts on taking care of newly born litters when a nursing animal wasn’t around. Yoruichi had observed that their efficiency, timing and determination were on par with a stealth force, and the name had stuck. Ichigo, of course, was their ‘ninja clan’s leader, and it made for excellent teasing. 

But it also made Ichigo proud, told him he was being useful in his own way.

“This the new guy?” He asked, peering at a tired looking dog that looked more like a bag of bones than anything. A bowl of wet dog food sat untouched in one corner of the large enclosure.

“Yeah. Chad found him near a dumpster yesterday night and brought him in. I checked him over, he seems to have been on the streets for quite a while, but he had a ratty old collar on him. He’s just been lying there, staring at nothing, responding to nothing. We washed him and gave him some shots, but he just lay there the whole while.” 

Ichigo’s heart clenched at the sight of the miserable creature. He had a long snout, and his fur was a dark brown, the hair short like a doberman. Half of his right ear was gone, and he had some patches of fur missing near his elbows and back, the beginnings of demodectic mange. He just looked blankly at Ichigo with his liquid chocolate eyes that seemed to be drowning in agony. He lay on his side, curled up against the metal bars.

“Looks like he’s got the beginnings of mange?”

“Yeah, I washed him with Amitraz earlier. I’ll give him a shot of Ivermectin later on, after the blood work comes back. I want to get him to eat something though, he looks so... sad...” 

Ichigo nodded then turned to look at his mentor of sorts. “I’ll do it. Can you have him moved to the yard? I’ll need to get some stuff.”

Kisuke brightened considerably, a huge grin breaking out on his face. “I knew I could count on my favourite ninja! You go on ahead, I’ll get one of the minions to help move him to the yard.”

Ichigo chuckled at the man’s strange terms. He liked to call his grunt volunteers ‘minions’. The older, more experienced ones were his ‘personal combat force’ and all of them were his ‘underlings’. 

Ichigo could hear claps and yells of ‘Underling! Come here, your Overlord needs you!’ in the background as he made his way to the kitchen on the first floor. Like all the other rooms in the building, it was also cheerfully bright and airy, two large windows taking up almost half of the outer wall. 

Two teenaged volunteers were snacking on a sandwich and he paid them no mind as he opened the cupboard and found what he was looking for: a large feeding bottle and a rag. He rinsed the bottle out and filled it with milk from the fridge, and screwed the lid on, checking that the rubber nipple was quite sturdy and would withstand sharp teeth.

He was out in the yard in no time, and was greeted with ecstatic yips and barks. Keigo and Mizuiro, two of his friends from high school, were trying to pull away six overexcited dogs from the orange haired male as they tried to knock him over. They had joined as volunteers almost halfway through junior year, and they were a part of Urahara’s Combat force too. 

“How’re you doing, Ichigo?” Mizuiro piped up, digging his heels into the grass to keep from being dragged away by the three dogs he had on a leash.

“I’m fine, what about you guys?” Ichigo smirked as Keigo gave him a wry grin. 

“Same as always, clan leader!” He laughed, making Ichigo roll his eyes at the title. “I think the dude you’re looking for is over there, underneath the oak. Poor guy, he looks terrible.”

Ichigo mumbled his thanks and jogged to the oak Keigo had pointed to. The shelter was quite big, and the actual kennels were situated farther away from the office building, along the perimeter of the property. In the middle, was a large, open space filled with grass and trees, a brilliant place to let the dogs run about and play. It was always cool and pleasant underneath the trees, even during summer. 

As he approached the tree, he saw his charge lying on his side in the grass, the ‘minion’ Urahara had called standing close by. The minute he saw Ichigo, he smiled and waved, before walking quickly to the dog kennels. 

The orange haired man approached the dog cautiously, watching for any reactions. He got none. 

He sighed and settled himself beside the dog, sitting cross legged, the bottle lying on the ground beside him. He placed a hand on the large dog’s head, and began stroking the rough fur. 

He  _ hated _ it when owners abandoned or abused their pets,  _ detested _ the people who could do such a heartless thing. He’d tended to many abused dogs over the years, and each time he saw how broken the animals looked, an almost irrational amount of anger and hate would well in his chest.

Shiro was one such unfortunate creature, when they’d first brought him in he needed to be tranquilised because he’d been so terribly violent. Ichigo himself had gotten plenty of bites during the first month of his arrival. It had taken Ichigo three months of trust building and coddling to mould Shiro into the wonderful companion he was today. Ichigo’s father had pitched a fit when he’d told him that Shiro was going to come home, but now Isshin Kurosaki was the mutt’s biggest fan. 

“Hmm, what should we call you, big guy?” He murmured softly, scratching behind the dog’s half missing ear. “You look like a deep, philosophical sort of guy... How about Plato? How does that sound?”

Ichigo was met with silence.

“I think Plato is a cool name. He was a really smart guy. You seem smart too, so I guess it fits. Plato it is, then.”

He shifted closer to the dog, and gently pulled his large, furry head onto his thigh. His strokes were longer now, starting at his forehead and going almost to his tail. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, boy. I wish you had better owners. It must have been so hard for you, you poor thing... But don’t worry, you’re home is here now, and we’ll take great care of you. Soon you’ll be running around and jumping on the volunteers just like all the other rascals here.” He chuckled lightly and lifted the bottle. “But before that, you need to eat so you can become full and healthy again. Aren’t you hungry, Plato?”

He gently pried Plato’s mouth open and slid the nipple into his mouth. “Drink some milk, big guy. You must be starving. Come on, don’t you want to go play with your friends?”

He cooed and murmured to the dog, gently pressing the bottle so a little milk flowed through it’s opening. It all leaked through the sides of his mouth though, so Ichigo quickly wiped it away with the rag he’d brought.

“Please, Plato. Drink a little, just a little. At least half of this bottle. Please? Pleeease?” 

Then he tried again, opening his mouth wider and making sure the milk was going down his throat. The dog lay limply as he slowly poured milk down his throat, but at least he was getting  _ something  _ into his stomach.

After the whole bottle was gone, he lay down on the grass, and moved Plato so his head was lying on his arm and his body was close by and parallel to Ichigo’s. They just lay there for a while, as Ichigo filled the air with gentle, encouraging words and humorous anecdotes of life in the shelter. 

He took out his phone after a while, and sent a text to Urahara, asking him to bring a bowl of Orihime’s special recipe dog food. The girl’s cooking had gotten significantly better since his school days, and her dog food recipe was a big hit with their canine friends.

Not too long after that, Urahara himself brought a medium sized bowl filled to the brim with beef, chicken and vegetables cooked to a gravy like consistency. A spoon stuck out from the mix. A bottle of cold water was tucked into the crook of his arm, and a plate with a small sandwich on it rested in the other. 

Urahara set down the bowl and bottle, before he pulled out a bottle of hand sanitizer from his white coat’s pocket. “Here, wipe your hands and eat this sandwich. It’s been a while since you were here.”

Ichigo took the sandwich with a grateful smile, he had been starting to get hungry. He finished the sandwich in three bites, and grinned at Kisuke, who grinned back and ruffled his hair a little. 

“Call me if you need anything,” he said, and he was off, leaving Ichigo to his task of feeding the unresponsive dog.  

“Heyy, Plato, you smell this? Doesn't it smell amazing? Come on, lets eat some of this yummy food, huh?”

The dog returned his gaze, but didn't respond at all. Ichigo sighed, but he knew to keep his patience. Yelling at dogs or hitting them never accomplished anything, it just made them feel bad. 

“Come on boy, why don't you let me feed you?”

Ichigo picked up a small piece of meat, and gently pried the dog's maw open with his other hand.

“Plato, you gotta eat, alright? I know you don't have much of an appetite, but you've got to get something in you. We've got to wait for your blood work to come back, but you can't stay hungry till then. You must be starving already!”

He placed the piece on the dog's tongue and let go. A huge grin split his face when the dog actually ate it.

“That's a good boy, Plato, good job!” He encouraged, giving the dog a good scratch between his ears.

It was slow going, but Plato seemed to be coming back to himself and ate as Ichigo fed him small chunks of food by hand. But about halfway through the bowl, the dog stopped eating, and tried to turn his face away when Ichigo tried to get him to open his mouth again.

Ichigo sighed, but he was grateful that Plato had at least eaten a little. He'd try again after a while, he had the whole day, and tomorrow to spend with the dog. 

He put the bowl away and covered it up with the sandwich plate, and he wiped his hands using the rag. Deeming his hands clean, he used both of them to rub the dog's flanks affectionately. 

“I'm glad you ate something, Plato. Thank you. Do you feel better now?”

Plato looked at him with his deep, soulful eyes. 

“Mmm. You'll get better soon, I bet. You look like you're a strong dog. You'll be up and running in no time.

“You know, I was sort of like you once. I was in a really bad place, and it felt like life was just full of misery and pain. It was terrible. I felt wretched, like... Like I wanted to die.”

He looked down at Plato again, who was still peering at him with his sage doggy eyes. 

“But, I got better. I had the shelter, I had the shop, and I had my friends and my sisters... They made me strong again. They supported me when I was too weak to stand on my own, like a crutch. They were there, and they helped me, and it was difficult and tiresome, but look at me now, I'm standing tall and proud, a 'clan leader', haha!”

Ichigo gazed upwards at the canopy of the tree. 

“We all have battles to fight, and problems to solve, and we aren't always successful, but... We just gotta treat the scars and burns like lessons, and focus on getting better, becoming stronger, and not making the same mistakes again.

“You've survived your battle, Plato, and I know how hard it was for you. But the hard part is over now, so you gotta let yourself rest. You should open up to the people who want to help you. I would like to be your crutch, if you'd like. I'll always protect you, and I'll always be there for you. I promise.

“I know it’s a really difficult thing to do, boy. Once you’ve been hurt, trusting someone becomes so very frightening and hard. Heck, I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone again, after how I was hurt. But you can trust me for sure, just like I trust you.” He gave the dog a wink. “After all, us broken people gotta stick together, ne?”

Ichigo gave the dog a soft smile, and a gentle pat on his head, before he laid back down on the grass, Plato's head still resting on his thigh. 

He dropped off into a nap, and slept peacefully, dreaming of blue skies and fluffy white clouds, the feel of warm, brown fur under his hands, wet noses nuzzling his face and a rough, yet soothing voice and gentle laughter echoing in the distance.

**_\- till next time_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Ichigo, sorry I made you so sad...  
> Sorry if this took a marked turn from the first 2 chapters. It's... kind of an angsty fic ahaha.


End file.
